


Study session

by bromorashi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental wetting, Desperation, Gen, Kink, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23231386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bromorashi/pseuds/bromorashi
Summary: Remus Lupin has always had a pretty large bladder. However, he has also always been pretty easily distracted.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Study session

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kink fic. if you aren't into that, you aren't going to like it.

_After this one, I'll go use the bathroom_ , Remus promised himself, scribbling down the first draft of his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. _It won't take that long_. At least, it shouldn't, this was his strongest subject, and vampires, the theme of the essay, was a topic he had been especially fascinated by. By all accounts, he should be done in no less than thirty minutes, he could save the second draft for after he had taken a, somewhat needed, break.

Holding his pee in while he was studying was not something foreign to him but rather a daily occurence. Remus had been blessed, perhaps because of his werewolf status, perhaps just by luck, with a rather strong bladder that could easily last long periods of time without being emptied. He frenquently held everything in, only relieving himself when he went back to his dorms, after class. And, even if he did end up peeing during the day, it was never out of desperation, more out of convenience. As a result of that peculiar ability, he had, by the time his sixth year of school rolled in, given into an habit of putting his voiding needs to the very back of his priorities and, so far, he had managed pretty well with it.

It being a Saturday, he had planned to study all day long, at first in the Library then, upon Sirius' and James' insistence, next to them in the Common Room so he could "at least look like he was enjoying himself with his friends instead of being a good little teacher's pet". So far, he had managed to finish almost all of his homework, the only one left being the DADA essay, due for the next Wednesday. He had plenty of time to finish it, really, but the Full Moon was nearing and he'd undoubtedly need to take a couple days off of school.

"Siriuuuus!" James suddenly whistled, pulling the werewolf out of his focused state and back into the present. As he felt himself take into what his friends were doing, he also noticed a slight pain in his lower abdomen. Pressure. Not worrying at all, he could easily ignore it, but pressure nonetheless.

The Marauders had claimed one of the Common Room's most coveted spots : a small, low table around which a large sofa and two comfortable chairs were disposed. All of it being set right under a window, it was one of the best places to study as long as it wasn't winter and, since they were well into April, it had become one of the most popular places to hang out. Remus himself had settled himself on the chair closest to the window, so as not to be disturbed by the other teens, who were as rowdy as ever.

Said teens were currently smiling wildly, Sirius' smile being the brightest. The young noble had apparently managed to sneak, once again, into the kitchen and had convinced the Elves to sneak him some Butterbeer and a bunch of left over cakes from uneaten dessert at lunch. He promptly handed everyone a bottle (Remus only hesitated briefly before taking his, but in the end he was confident he could handle it) and threw himself on the sofa next to James.

"Once again, the estimated Sirius Black saves the day by bringing supplies to the poor-"

"Hey!" protested James.

"-... starving-"

"Hey!" protested Peter, who was nibbling on a cookie.

"-... uneducated-"

Remus didn't bother answering and just took a swig of Butterbeer. The taste was as delicious as ever.

"-... masses of Gryfindor Tower. Oh, plebeians, are you grateful?"

The only answer to his little monologue was a barely avoided cake thrown at his face by James and a frown by Peter. Remus himself was too busy going back into his essay to bother socializing. He could do that later, once he was done working.

He had almost managed to slip back into his studious mindset when Peter distracted him again, tapping his shoulder insistantly. It had only been ten minutes since Sirius came back from the kitchen but, already, it was almost impossible to work. Typical.

"Is this Defense Against the Dark Arts?" The rat Animagus asked, peering at the paper in his hand.

"First draft, yest," Remus nodded. "Wanna read?"

He knew he shouldn't, he knew he really shouldn't be handing out his homework like this but Peter was really bad at DADA, and he could be a real pain when he wanted something. Today was not a day Remus fancied ending by arguing with one of his friends about their work ethics so he simply sighed when said friend nodded enthusiastically and passed his draft over. Even Sirius, who definitely did _not_ need any help in any subject whatsoever, moved to read over Peter's shoulder. Apparently, the Marauders had decided to conspire to stop him from finishing his homework today.

While the other sixth years read over his half-finished draft, he finished the bottle of Butterbeer, distractedly wondering if he was better off going to relieve himself now, since he didn't have access to his homework, or use this small break to enjoy his friends' company. Since the morning, and his only pee of the day, he had had three cups of tea, including two for breakfast, a glass of pumpkin juice, one or two large glasses of water with his lunch, a hot cocoa and now a Butterbeer. But then, the hot cocoa and the Butterbeer were quite recent so they probably wouldn't bother him any time soon, right?

With a smile, he accepted James' offer to dispute a chess game. Remus wasn't too bad at it, but James was unbeatable. A mere twenty minutes game wouldn't delay him too much, he'd be fine.

By the time he bowed out of the game, thirty-five minutes after it started, he had to keep his legs pressed together and fight the urge to cross and uncross them repeatedly. His toes were constantly wiggling inside his shoes, as he would not allow himself to show any other sign of desperation. The slight pain had turned into a more present pressure, like a low burn deep inside his abdomen, that made him want to wiggle around in his seat.

He usually didn't get that needy for a bathroom break until right before bed, on days where he elected to only void before night time, but, this time, at barely six in the afternoon, he was starting to get desperate.

He opened his mouth to ask Sirius to move his legs, currently planted on the table in between them, so he could wiggle out of his seat and, finally, go relieve himself, but his words died in his throat when Peter asked him, his voice pleading :

"Can you help me out with the vampires essay? Yours is really, really good."

Slowly, Remus moved his gaze to look at Peter, who smiled at him innocently, pushing a steaming cup full to the brim with tea in his direction. He looked proud of his idea to try to corrupt his friend with one of his two loves (tea and chocolate) and, in that instant, he almost won. However, Remus' bladder was full enough that it was starting to impede his focus and, if he didn't relieve himself soon, he'd be completely unable to make any progress on his homework.

Yes, that was the only issue, definitely.

"Sorry Pete, but-"

"I also gooooot-..."

The mousey brat smirked and took a large, beautiful, gleaming bar of Honeydukes' chocolate out from under the table. The damn rat had thought it through, Remus realised. And there was just no way he'd give up free chocolate, not even if it meant having to painfully tutor Peter in a subject he was absolutely shite in. His friends just knew him to well.

"Alright." He said, grabbing the chocolate out of Peter's hand. "But no more than one hour."

He could handle- he meant... His focus could handle one hour. But any longer would seriously be pushing it, he already had troubles ignoring the pangs coming from his bladder, now almost pounding underneath his skin. It felt large and distended and, for a second, he was glad he had chosen to wear an oversized sweater on that day, as anything else would have potentially shown the bulge he knew his bladder had turned into.

"Two hours," Pete protested.

After a lot of frowning, and a mental poke at his distressed organ, Remus decided that, if he would have trouble reaching two hours with his full mental capacities, he could probably go for one hour and a half. He often held it for way longer, had even managed to hold on for a full twenty four hours more than once. It had only been ten hours since he last emptied himself. He could last longer.

Sirius and James got bored pretty quickly of watching Peter and Remus studying together and soon ditched them to organize an impromptu "flying lesson" (which was, in idiots Language, a code for "prank planning"). Knowing them and the lengths they went to to make their pranks hit, they'd be gone until well after supper. So one hour and a half until he was left alone. Seven thirty was also the time a lot of people decided to go for supper, that often lasted quite a long time, as, on Saturdays, a lot of people enjoyed hanging out after dinner instead of going straight back to their Common Rooms. If- **when** he could finally go, he'd probably be left well alone.

Good.

Not that he was worried of looking ridiculous or anything of the sort. In fact, he was quite sure he could wait even longer before having to show any sign of desperation. Yep. Definitely.

As discreetely as he could, he squeezed his thighs together, thanking Merlin that Peter was oblivious enough not to notice just how straight he was currently sitting.

"And this is a high vampire, right?" Peter asked, one hour into the lesson, pointing at a drawing of an ancient vampire. Remus sighed, winced when it jostled his bladder, then shook his head, trying to appear absolutely neutral. He had gone from casually pressing his thighs together to openly crossing his legs to transfiguring a pillow into a throw blanket so he could put it over his lap and keep the fact that he was having a hard time keeping his hands away from his crotch a secret. The last cup of tea, and the one Peter had, very helpfully, made him afterwards were hitting him hard and, by that point, he was starting to doubt his ability to go to the bathroom sneakily. He felt like grabbing his crotch even now, when he was sitting. What would it be when he stood up? When he had to walk?

"That's an ancient... ancient vampire, Pete." Remus stumbled over the words, his focus shot to hell now that most of it was turned to keeping his hands away from his penis and his bladder in check. He was still very much in control but it was a real struggle to pretend like everything was alright. But oh how embarrassing it would be to have everyone in the Common Room notice how desperate he was, he'd never live it down, it would haunt him for years-for...

Under the blanket, he crossed his legs even harder as a wave of urgency rushed over him. That last cup of tea was starting to hit him now and he was growing anxious over how utterly _desperate_ it left him.

"You okay, Remus?" Peter, wondered, no doubt noticing how pale his face had gotten over the last hour.

Uniting his last remaining brain cells (at least the ones not focused on the absolute emergency going on downstairs), the werewolf managed to stammer out an apology and a lie about how he was anxious to finish his essay and probably now had to skip dinner to finish it in time, what with his Prefect duties and everything.

"Oh!" Peter's eyes widened. "I know!"

The teen jumped to his feet and patted Remus on the shoulder, making him bite his lips tightly. The werewolf barely stopped himself from rocking back and forth, urine swelling up inside his bladder and crashing against the tense muscles keeping it closed.

"I'm gonna take a break and go have dinner with the guys. I'll tell them to leave you alone for the night so you can finish up your stuff and I'll bring you a sandwich as a thanks! How does that sound?"

_That_ sounded very nice. Privacy, finally. Remus nodded widely, his fingers gripping his thighs, not daring to wander further yet. Once Peter was gone he could just hobbl- walk to the nearest bathroom. Plus, he'd be left alone right after, which meant ample time to finish his homework and then go on his Prefect patrol. Everything was working out just fine, finally.

"And how about I bring you a nice new cup of tea while you wait?" Peter winked, completely oblivious to the effect his words had on poor Remus. The werewolf couldn't even find it in himself to decline, so focused he was on holding back the whine that threatened to come out of him at the mention of yet another cup of tea. Tea, water, juice, cocoa, everything had rushed into his bladder and he could not. Take. One. More. Drop.

Before he even realised what was happening, an empty cup was set in front of him and a tea pot tilted over it. With dawning horror, Remus watched, unable to avert his gaze, the liquid being poured into the cup, the stream, strong and warm, so much like what he was yearning to release. So much like what was currently trapped into him.

"Have fun!" Peter smiled, before skipping over to the exit of the Common Room, leaving Remus sitting cross legged, frozen with his hands still on his thighs and his eyes fixed on the now full cup and almost full teapot sitting next to it.

The horror turned into full-blown panic when, after nearly a minute of staring at the cup like it was going to bite him, Remus felt a waver in his abdomen, just a small pulsing from his muscles, nothing much, nothing too painful, but-...

A small drop of urine slipped past his defense, settling against the tip of his cock and staining his underwear. Alongside it, a drop of cold sweat started to run down the wizard's back. Holy shit. Merlin. Fuck. He was actually starting to lose control.

No pride could stop him this time, still hidden underneath the blanket, Remus threw his hands at his crotch, squeezing with all his might to call his traitorous body back to order. Crossing his thighs around his hands, he felt, for the first time in a few hours, a modicum of relief and allowed himself to hesitantly relax his grip.

When nothing happened, he very carefully and slowly, as to not jostle his overfull bladder, pushed the blanket away from his legs and made to stand up. However, he didn't even make it into a standing position before he had to drop back on the chair, the lack of pressure from the pillows, that he hadn't realized he was rubbing his crotch again to help him hold it, enough to make his control falter once again. As he dropped back down, he felt urine not leak but _gush_ into his pants, with an audible hiss. Thankfully, after slamming the blanket back and some vigorous grabbing, he managed to regain control.

Remus peaked under the blanket. While his underwear was now warm and undeniably damp, his pants seemed to have been spared for now. Unfortunately, he was wearing one of his lighter pants today, beige, so any unfortunate... accident would be noticeable.

Fuck.

There was no way he could make it to the bathroom without letting out more pee. Even now, he was surprised it didn't show on his pants yet. He was already pretty shy about admitting that he needed the bathroom to his friends, how could he live down visibly pissing himself in the Gryffindor Common Room? Five or so students were still there, having decided not to show up to dinner. Five wasn't a lot but it was still five more persons that Remus could live with knowing they saw him wet his pants.

Wait. No. He couldn't think like that. He wasn't going to wet his pants.

All he had to do was go use the dorms' bathroom.

The dorms.

The sixth years dorms.

The one that were nearly at the top of the tower.

This time, he couldn't quite control the moan of desperation that escaped him, nor could he stop himself from bending in half, jerking one of his knees up in desperation. Despite his hands massaging his crotch, he couldn't help another spurt, quickly followed by a second, much, much longer one to escape his overfull bladder. Pee shot out of his underwear and trickled to his butt, soaking into the comfortable armchair and the pillows under him. He was having an accident. He was having an accident in Gryffindor's Common Room.

His cheeks started burning with shame just as more pee escaped him, joining the small puddle already being soaked up by fabric. All the leaks and spurts had been short and he still held so much more inside of him but he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't...

He couldn't wet himself!

Not right now, not right there. He had to make it upstairs. He had to make it to the dorms.

For the second time, Remus readied himself to get up. Pushing away the blanket revealed a very small well patch on the left of his crotch but, when he patted down the seat underneath him to check for damage he quickly figured out that, if the front of his pants had been salvaged, the back was covered in a large, wet stain, and so was the chair. Splitting his focus, he took out his wand and managed to worldlessly clean up the poor, innocent chair.

Unfortunately, splitting his focus meant less of it spent on holding his bladder and, as a result, he immediately had to fall into a crouch as soon as he stood up, a jet of pee hissing its way out of him. It splattered on the floor noisily and he had to, once again, focus to make it disappear. Still crouching, his legs trying in vain to cross themselves, he got his wizards robes from where they were laying on the table and clumsily slipped them on. He didn't have the brain power to even attempt to clean his pants and now, with his latest leak, even one of his pants legs showed traces of his struggles.

Only four person in the Common Room now, he only had to cross it without arising suspicion and then manage to make his way up the stairs and he'd be set. It was so easy. He could do this.

He stepped forward. Somehow, he didn't leak.

He took another step, had to stop and balance himself on the back of the sofa as his legs decided to glue themselves together to fight back a surge of desperation. Despite this, a strangled stream made its way out of his urethra and slowly dripped into his pants. He couldn't hold himself while he was in the Common Room.

Desperately, Remus powerwalked to the stairs, forgetting all about holding it and focusing only on reaching the mild privacy of the staircase so he could stop his leaking. By the time he reached a somewhat private spot, the wet patch had expanded to both of his legs and his pee was shooting out regularly, through all his grabbing and wiggling and whimpering.

This time, he was truly reaching his limits.

Slowly, carefully, he attempted to make his way up the stairs. Every ten or so steps, he had to stop and bounce around, legs crossed, knees bent, so he wouldn't let all of his pee out. Just as he was walking (hobbling) past the fifth year dorm, a wave of desperation hit him with such force that he almost fell over and that the spurt that came out made him believe he had truly lost it.

In fact, for five seconds he was effectively peeing full force into his pants, helpess to stop the wetness that was soaking into his clothes. The hissing from his pee hole was stopped briefly by him pressing his knuckles against his urethra, then it picked up again. It sputtered on and off for a few seconds before Remus was left there, top half of his pans soaked and still a day's worth of liquids into his abdomen. Under his crossed feet, a small puddle of urine had formed.

In that instant, he knew for a fact he wasn't going to make it. The only reason he was still holding on was his sheer stuborness. He should have gone when he still could like a normal person, he shouldn't have pushed himself, he shouldn't-

Urine streamed against his fingers, dripping between them. He couldn't close his legs any stronger, couldn't hold himself any tighter.

In that instant, he found himself frozen. If he moved even one muscle he'd lose it, he was at his absolute limits. However, if he didn't move, even if he stayed in this manageable position, he would still eventually break. Even now, his bladder kept dripping and dripping and dripping into his underwear, even now...

A voice.

He jumped and, with the movement, came another spurt of piss. The voice was coming from further up the stairs, either a sixth or a seventh year. Probably someone he knew.

Horror filled him and, as he franctically looked for a way to appear normal, his bladder used his distraction to start releasing itself again in a slow, torturous stream that only started picking up when he shot at the fifth year dorm's door and that he couldn't quite shut off as he stumbled backwards into the blessedly empty dorm and locked himself in it. It was too late, he knew it.

As he heard the sounds of people rushing down the steps, male voices (recognizable male voices he noticed, James and Sirius) shot out, teasing each other. He stumbled backwards, away from the door until his leg hit an obstacle.

Hands clutched around his crotch, eyes wide, cheeks bright red, Remus Lupin fell backward into a stranger's bed and the shock from it was enough to obliterate what was left of his control. Pee hissed out of him like a torrent, re-soaking his underwear and pants and spreading all across the bed, then to the floor. It kept streaming and streaming and he only started to feel relief after a good thirty seconds had gone by. By then, the release felt so good that he couldn't help himself from voiding uncontrolably on the sheets, piss dripping down his shoes, everywhere on his lower half.

He had been so desperate.

After one more minute on full on peeing, the stream finally slowed down and he was left drenched, humiliated and exhausted. 

However, the day still wasn't over.

Now, he had a lot of cleaning up to do.

And an essay to finish.


End file.
